Insult to Injury
by Domomomo
Summary: Greece was a pest. An insolent little prick that was lazy and rude as hell... but he was pretty good at bandaging. Turkey/Greece.


Turkey was at a loss. Confused, bamboozled, perplexed, utterly fucking _baffled_ as to how that shrimpy Italian _baby_ could beat him. The kid was like a monster at sea. He was universally known to be soft in the head and completely useless, so how was it that he managed to –literally—kick him in the teeth? If not for the fact he was immortal, Turkey was fairly certain he'd have died three times over from the assault. He had cuts up and down his arms, long bloody wounds inflicted by swords, and a huge gash from where he yanked out a fucking _arrow_. Needless to say, he was worse for wear. He'd need a strong drink and a whore to ditch this shame. Unfortunately, what he got was quite the opposite.

"Welcome home, loser." There he was, the very bane of Turkey's existence: that smug little dipshit Greece. Turkey was not in the mood.

"Shut up, ya damn brat. I don't wanna deal with yer shit."

Greece's eyes scanned Turkey's mangled form, his brows creasing in slight concern as he stated the obvious. "You're gonna need bandages."

Turkey rolled his eyes. "Ya think? I was just planning on gettin' blood all over the fuckin' floor."

"I'll get some, so sit down, moron. I'll be right back." Turkey glared after Greece's retreating form, heaving a disgruntled sigh as he settled himself on a wooden stool. It wouldn't do to get blood or dirt on expensive cushions, and stains like that would only serve to piss him off further. He did his best to get comfortable, he was going to be sitting there for a long time, after all; that kid was lazy and slow as hell, and Turkey wouldn't be shocked if he took his time getting the bandages just to make him suffer. Much to his surprise, Greece was back within ten minutes, arms full with towels, a water basin, and multiple rolls of cloth bandages.

Still, Turkey wasn't pleased. He never was, not with Greece. "Took ya long enough."

"You say that like I care. Besides, you're not gonna die. Take your clothes off so I can put these on."

Turkey would have loved to hear those words from the whore he had been hoping for earlier, but from the Grecian it sounded almost patronizing, which wasn't something he wanted from his ward. But he'd do for now, because who else would wrap these bandages for him? On one hand, having all of those battle scars would make him seem really rugged to a woman, but on the other he'd have to explain to her that they came from a child that could barely carry a bucket of water. Better to have it done by someone that already knew the pitiful truth. As well as he could with his many injuries, Turkey stripped himself of his billowy garbs, bare except for the multitudes of scars, old and new. Greece grimaced at the sight.

"Get to it, kid. Don't got all day."

Greece scoffed and dipped a towel in the water basin, thoroughly soaking it before wringing it out and bringing it to the largest of the wounds on Turkey's arm. He gave a slight smirk when Turkey winced in pain.

"B-Be careful, dumbass," Turkey scolded, hissing at the uncomfortable sensation of rough cloth scraping against torn flesh. "It ain't gonna heal if yer rough like that." He yelped, unable to stifle the cry when Greece rubbed the same spot again. "I said ta be _careful_!"

"Maybe you should take your own advice and not get beat up by toddlers." Greece continued to clean the dirt off of Turkey's bloody welts, snickering at every unmanly moan. With each cleaned wound, a strip of cloth was unraveled and wrapped over it, and by the end of it Turkey was exhausted from the strain of it all, so exhausted that he only gave a short bark of protest when Greece placed a mocking kiss atop his bandaged knee.

He stood up unsteadily, staggering a little before Greece braced him. Turkey looked at his charge with confusion, the expression reflected in Greece's eyes as if he was just as surprised by his actions. He frowned, speaking slowly and cautiously, "Y'know, ya ain't half bad, kid. When ya keep yer mouth shut, that is."

"Heh, don't get used to it." Without warning, Greece lightly smacked a sore bruise on Turkey's chest, running away and laughing heartily at the hurt cry he got in return.

"Damn brat! I take all that shit back, I'm gonna fuckin' choke the disrespect right outta ya!"

Greece was a pest. An insolent little prick that was lazy and rude as hell.

"Just try and catch me, old man!"

…But he was pretty good at bandaging.


End file.
